Penumbra
by Midnight Phantasma
Summary: A world in which a foul-mouthed, circus boy is dragged kicking and screaming to the Order, Alma survives and stays with his livid brother, and Lenalee's forced to keep track of their shenanigans. Honestly, who had the bright idea of making them all share a single bedroom? "Damn it, beansprout! I said I called the bed!" Kanda bellowed, tackling the redhead onto the concrete floor.


**A/N:** Just an idea, though it didn't actually end up being too long. And it's rated for language; just thought I'd give you a heads up.(: But I hope you enjoy!^-^

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 **Disclaimer** **:** Nope! I've probably said it a million times, but I don't own **D. Gray-Man** ~! :p

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Penumbra

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 **Time Frame — Night of February 27th, 1889**

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 **—3rd Person POV—**

 **~Allen~**

"And stay in there!" the voice bellowed from the corridor, carelessly tossing the boy, known as Red, into the dim bedroom.

"Fuck you too, ya bloody wanker!" roared the small, seven-year-old boy, jumping to his feet just as the door slammed in his face. In his rage, Red furiously kicked at the door, a number of expletives escaping his lips.

"A-are you alright?" a small female voice piped up, once his shouts had turned into grumblings.

Swiftly pivoting on his heel to face the rest of the room, Red narrowed his mercury eyes at the other three children, keenly observing them. The one who'd spoken up was a slip of a girl, skin pale and swallow, and despite clearly being Asian, her dark, shadowed eyes looked far too big against her thin face. Dark, limp tresses encased her, making her appear even smaller than she was, and even in the dim lighting, Red could tell that the violet dress she was wearing was ratty and worn from years of use. His eyes flitted to the other two occupants of the room, which turned out to be a pair of Japanese boys, and despite their likeness to each other, appeared as complete opposites. One had black spikes of hair flopping all over, and held a tentative smile, while the other's silky locks were held back into a low pony-tail, and he was already glaring maliciously at him. Red briefly wondered if these creeps had some sort of Asian-fetish, before recalling that they'd also taken _him_.

"What the bloody hell is this?!" Red demanded with narrowed eyes. "If this is some cocked up plan made by barmy pedophiles, I'm legging it!" the seven-year-old declared, stomping towards the window without a thought, until one of them grabbed him roughly by the arm. Red flinched; it had been his left.

"Didn't they damn well explain anything to you, beansprout?!" the grumpy Japanese boy asked.

" _No_ ," Red replied stiffly, vehemently wrenching away his left arm, turning to scowl at him.

The girl stepped up with a worried frown, and Red briefly wondered how someone as frail as her was even standing. "Please don't do anything rash. We're up on one of the highest floors of the tower, and the tower's placed on a cliff."

His mercury orbs widened. "Bloody hell…"

"Yeah," she smiled tentatively. "My name is Lenalee Lee. This is Alma Karma and Kanda Yuu. What's your name?"

"What's it to ya?" Red grumbled, though it was more out of embarrassment than maliciousness. What was he supposed to say? That he _had_ no name? Or even worst, be labeled by that botched up name he'd been given at the circus? "Red"… Named after his revolting arm… He narrowed his eyes in thought, wondering if there was some other name he could take. He certainly wasn't taking on any names of those duffers from the circus, and the only one who'd ever taken a liking to him was the old, barmy clown's dog. What was its name…? Oh, that's right, it had been Allen.

"She _asked_ you a question," Kanda growled, shoving him slightly.

"Fine!" the seven-year-old spat. "It's Allen, ya tosser."

"What? No surname?" Kanda sneered.

 _Damn_ , the newly named Allen thought, trying to recall what the stupid clown's surname had been. _What was it? Stalker, Stroller, Marcher? Blast it, those all sound rubbish_ _—wait, it was Walker!_

"It's Allen Walker," Allen finally replied with a glare.

"Don't be so harsh on him, Yuu," Alma lightly admonished. "We both made up our own surnames."

Rather than taking advantage of this fact, Allen could only slump down in relief, self-consciously tugging up his oven mitt hiding his red and gnarled hand.

"What's with the stupid glove, 'sprout?" Kanda asked, as they finally settled down, Lenalee sitting and pulling her knees up on one of the two beds, Kanda and Alma taking a seat on the other bed, and Allen sitting cross-legged in the space between, leaning back against Lenalee's bed.

"I _said_ , my name is _Allen_ , so bloody well use it," Allen scowled, avoiding the question. "And is anyone gonna tell me what the bollocks is going on around here?"

Nobody answered for a moment, unsure as to how explain something as complex as the Holy War, before Alma hesitantly spoke up, "Ah, well to be honest, we don't really know all that much ourselves, and Lenalee's already been here for _two_ _years_. This is the Black Order, an organization fighting a secret war; the Holy War, and we're supposed to be the Soldiers of God."

Allen's eye twitched. "… What the bloody hell? Quit pissing around, and tell me the truth!"

"That _is_ the truth!" Alma protested, a bit whiny.

"Sounds like a bunch of rubbish to me…" Allen deadpanned.

"Well, get used to it, beansprout, because it's the fucking truth," Kanda spat, scowl firmly set in place. "If we had our Innocence, we could show you, but they usually keep it away from us."

"I-Innocence?! What the hell are you on about?!" Allen shouted, suddenly worried for his _own_ innocence.

"Not _that_ type of Innocence!" Alma attempted to reassure him. "I know it's odd, but that's what they call the weapons we use as Accommodators. You have one too, otherwise you wouldn't be here. There're two types; Equipment type and Parasitic type. Kanda and Lenalee both have Equipment type, which is why they don't currently have them, but since mine is Parasitic, I can show you—um, if you want that is?"

Allen still thought they were all barmy, but decided to play along. "Alright, I'll bite, what's a Parasitic type?"

Alma beamed, happy to see the grouchy boy—who he honestly thought was too much like Kanda for his own good—cooperating. "It means the weapon is a part of your body. Mine is my right arm, see?" Pulling up his sleeve, he displayed his arm for Allen—though Lenalee was curious enough to peer at it from behind the redhead—who observed it with fervent eyes. Though Alma's arm wasn't disfigured like his own, it still made quite the sight, with peculiar obsidian markings and patterns trailing down his arm, not coming to a halt until they reach the bizarre, glowing crystal—exactly like his own—above his wrist and merged together around it. Suddenly, Allen didn't feel as self-conscious, and a small part of him was actually glad he was dragged here against his will; could these strangers _accept_ him, knowing he was in the same boat as them?

Ignoring the screaming voice in his head that adamantly warned him against showing them the very thing that had continuously gotten him beat, rejected, and abandoned, Allen reluctantly muttered, "I guess that means I'm Parasitic…" This gained their attention, and rapidly, before he could change his mind, Allen tugged off the oven mitt, displaying his contorted hand, upon which lied a similar crystal.

Allen waited for gasping and screaming, but all he received were wide, surprised eyes before they shrugged it off. The redheaded boy was astounded, and if it weren't for Kanda's sneer, he thought he would've cried. But he clamped down on his tear ducts, and instead said, "Tell me more."

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"Wait, so there're _more_ of us? Blimey!" Allen exclaimed, awed that there were so many like him.

"Yep!" Alma nodded, as he'd taken it upon himself to explain as much as he could to Allen. He was happy to see that his friendly demeanor had made Allen loosen up somewhat, and it also helped that Kanda had fallen asleep sometime back, though Alma was surprised to see Lenalee staying awake, silent as ever, but still listening. "There're the really powerful ones, like the Generals—though I've never seen one myself—and the regular Exorcists competent enough to be sent out on missions on their own, which is why we rarely even see them. Since _we_ don't have any experience, we're technically supposed to be apprenticed to one of the Generals, but they're trying to force us to learn how to properly activate our Innocence before they do so. Kanda and I have managed a couple of times, but Lenalee still hasn't been able to…"

Allen raised his eyebrows at this, glancing up at the grim looking girl. Hadn't he mentioned that she'd already been here for two years? "Why can't the Generals teach us? Wouldn't they know best?"

It wasn't Alma who answered. "Because they like to experiment on us," she whispered in a dull, pained voice, and then continued listlessly, "They tie you down, and see if they can force the synchronization themselves, and when they can't, they blame you and hurt you. It hurts the most when they try to synchronize you with other pieces of Innocence, along with your own. And sometimes, when they give you a break, they try to force synchronization on other kids, but it never works. It never works because they turn into monsters, and then they kill as much as they can until they get blown up, and then… then…" Lenalee choked on her words, trembling as tears splashed across her sunken cheeks, the eight-year-old girl curling into herself.

"Lenalee…" Alma whispered, horrified, because he and Kanda had only been there for a month or two, and had yet to fully experience the sickening events.

Allen abruptly stood, clenching his fist, absolutely livid as he looked around the room for something to take his anger out on. Silver eyes landing on the slumbering, Japanese boy, Allen stomped over, harshly shoving him off of the bed.

"T-the hell?!" Kanda, still half-asleep, stared blearily at him as he stood.

"This is fucking sick, you know that?!" Allen shouted, utterly enraged as he punched the nearby wall, against which the beds rested.

"The hell's your problem, 'sprout?!" Kanda yelled back, using a fist to rub away the sleep from his eyes.

"Sod off, you arse!" Allen screamed. "This all absolute bollocks, and you're just standing there, like a bloody twat!" Breathing heavily, Allen slumped down on Kanda's bed, quite close to crying once again, because he felt so afraid, and so, so _alone_.

Kanda, who was still somewhat asleep, could only register that fact that the idiotic beansprout was on _his_ bed and acted quite irrationally. "Damn it, beansprout! I said _I_ called the bed!" Kanda bellowed, jumping across the bed, and tackling the redhead onto the concrete floor.

That was the all the motive Allen needed to go to blows with the older boy. Having been in a large amount of fights while living in the streets, and even when he was in the circus, Allen was able to hold his own against the bigger boy, kicking and punching at him with all his might, taking out all his rage on the boy whose temper could match his own.

"Damn it, you two! Quit it!" Alma shouted, pulling them away from each other with surprising strength. Before they could escape his grasp though, Lenalee was there, tiny, frail, and trembling hands holding them back with their mere presence alone.

"Stop. Just _stop_ ," Lenalee stressed, thankfully, no longer crying. She glared up at them with burning, violet eyes. "Allen, I'm so _sorry_ for scaring you like that, but it's something you needed to know, because it's the _truth_. And they won't let you escape; they've punished me so many times for my attempts, so please _don't_ ," Lenalee begged, and Allen winced at the mention of punishments. "I can't say anything to make this better, but _please_ , don't take it out on Kanda…"

" _Fine_ ," Allen grumbled with a tired sigh, and even though part of him momentarily contemplated apologizing, he shoved the thought aside with the excuse that he didn't know _how_ to.

"Shouldn't you be apologizing, beansprout?" Kanda glowered down at him.

" _You're_ the one that started the bloody fight, you arsehole!" Allen shouted vehemently.

Kanda gave him an incredulous look. "Are you fucking kidding me?! _You're_ the one that pushed me off _my_ bed and started shouting like a lunatic!"

"Well it's not _my_ fault you look like such a pillock while sleeping!"

Before it could escalate into yet another fistfight, Alma wacked them both upside the head. "Alright, that's enough you two! It's been a long night for all of us, so let's just get to bed, yeah?" Kanda and Allen glowered at each other for another moment, before backing off, much to Alma's relief.

"Yeah, alright," Allen mumbled. "I'm absolutely knackered."

"You can sleep at the end of my bed if you'd like, Allen," Lenalee suggested with a hesitant smile. "I don't take up much space, so I won't kick you off or anything."

"Err, sure, thanks," Allen fidgeted awkwardly, not used to being shown any sort of kindness, but her offer was certainly more appealing than the concrete floor.

"Good night," Alma mumbled once they'd all settled down, and it wasn't long before sleep overcame them all.

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 **Time Frame — Morning of February 28th, 1889**

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When morning came, Allen was surprised to find that it hadn't all been some whacked up dream, and soon enough, he was trudging blearily after the others, not even questioning where it was that they were headed until they arrived in a long hall with several benched tables running down it.

"Err, where are we?" Allen asked around a yawn, rubbing his half-lidded eyes.

"The cafeteria," Lenalee answered quietly, gently tugging him along, before the four came to a stop behind a small group of Finders, waiting for their turn to order breakfast.

"Um, so we just get to order whatever we want?" Allen questioned with an incredulous note to his voice. Seriously, he had never come across such an experience; at least not one that didn't involve pay. Back at the circus, he'd literally been forced to fight for scraps amongst the dogs. The only reason he'd even traveled with them was because they had been the only ones to offer a "roof" over his head, and only if he managed to be useful. But he was used to it, and hadn't bothered to complain; simply scavenging as he had all his life.

Lenalee blinked in surprise, as if the thought of no food was a possibility. _They torture her, but they need to keep her bloody alive somehow_ , Allen deduced with a scowl, and it was Alma who finally responded, "Of course! Jerry makes the best food!" And even the ever grouchy Kanda grunted in agreement.

It was just then that they reached the front, and the flamboyant chef was a bit overbearing in Allen's opinion, but at his cringe he finally backed off, waiting for Allen to decide on his choice of breakfast. The small, uncouth redhead fidgeted in place as they all stared expectantly at him, and he eventually blurted out the first thought that came to mind, "Um, blimey! How 'bout an apple? Does that sound alright?"

They blinked slowly, a little astounded, and then Lenalee spoke up, "Jerry, we'll have our usual. Why don't you give Allen a little bit of everything? He hasn't tried much, as you might have noticed."

Jerry nodded, not the least bit deterred. "I'll get right on that! Always happy to cook!"

And Allen thought the size of his grin was ridiculous, but decided he would be careful not bite the hand the feeds him. At least _something_ good had resulted out of this whole ordeal.

Alma herded them all to nearby table, and as they waited, Allen couldn't help but wonder, "So what are we supposed to do after this?"

They exchanged glances and shrugged. "Train. What else?" Kanda sneered.

Allen lifted a dubious eyebrow. "And how the hell do you go about that if you can't properly activate this so-called 'Innocence'?"

Kanda narrowed his eyes, but fortunately, Alma interjected, "The thing, Allen, is that the scientists are pretty harsh when it comes to our synchronization. It was pretty rough, back at the Asian Branch, and we've actually had better luck here, but it's still difficult. So we also work on it on our own time, to better prepare ourselves." Alma nodded to himself, seeming proud of his explanation, and then added with a toothy grin, "Plus, I read up on some katas for Yuu, since his weapon is supposed to be a katana, and now he practices like craz— _ow_! Sheesh, Yuu, no need to be so mean!"

Allen rolled his eyes, and even Lenalee giggled beside him. "Alright, I still think you're all a bit daft, but I guess I have no choice at this point."

Kanda scoffed. "Yeah, we didn't ask for your opinion, 'sprout."

"Ugh! Would ya just put a sock in it, ya arsehole!" Allen growled, lunging across the table, and getting into yet another tussle.

"Not again!"

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 **A/N:** Um, it was supposed to be multi-chapter, but I actually don't have many ideas for this, if you can believe that.(x Oh well, hoped you liked what I had anyway!

And when I first thought up this idea, I was planning on it being funny and silly; unfortunately, when I actually sit down to write, my brain won't allow me to write willy nilly. I _have_ to stay true to the characters to the best of my ability, which ended up me having to factor in all of their depressing childhoods. So I'm sorry if I misled you with the summary! But why don't you review and tell me what you think?(:


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